


The Cruel Fate of Loving Vereesa Windrunner

by Dlxm950, Tsargus (Dlxm950)



Series: Story of a Lost Man [5]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Character Death, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, F/F, Pain, Sad, Sad Ending, This Is Not A Happy Story Folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dlxm950/pseuds/Dlxm950, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dlxm950/pseuds/Tsargus
Summary: Alera had never thought she would be in this position.Kneeling before a military tribunal being tried for treason. She stared at each of the judges, committing their faces to memory should she find an escape, and took a deep breath.“I plead Innocent of all charges.”The council, her judges and executioners, erupted into cries of blasphemy and dissent. Their silver tongues lashing out with accusations of betrayal and falsehood. It was not until their leader stood, several minutes later, that the noise finally ceased.“We find you, Alera Vesque, guilty of treason against the Alliance, the light, and the free peoples of Azeroth. Your punishment is banishment…”Alera did not hear anything after that. The cries of triumph and celebration among the gathered people not registering in her ears. The ground was cold and the air was thin. Her breath suddenly felt labored and heavy.There was no chance of escape. Today was the day she would die.





	1. Cruelty in Bounds

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.

The day had started as any other.

Alera had risen from her slumber, brown hair a mess and blue eyes redder than blood, to the cries of the injured and dying. Her heart briefly going out to their suffering before she was forced to push it aside in favor of mandatory work. 

She quickly grabbed a small breakfast before moving to her office. Already a fairly large stack of papers was waiting for her to sign. So with a heavy sigh she moved to begin.

When she had been asked to oversee the healers stationed on the front lines she had been honored. King Wrynn himself had asked her too. She immediately accepted, eager to help those who needed it. 

The unfortunate truth was that she did far more paperwork than healing. 

Everyday she had to compose supply requests that would inevitably be denied. She had to monitor their limited supply of said stocks that continued to reach dangerously low levels. Already they lacked many of the necessary ingredients for the more powerful healing potions. Just a week before they ran out of sedatives and painkillers, forcing their healers to fix broken bones and deep wounds with nothing more than their own connection to the light. Not to mention that half of her already limited number of light users had been conscripted into paladin training. 

Yet she persisted. The night elves had been a massive help. With their druids vast capacities for nature magic, along with their incredible large knowledge of herbology, they had been able to overcome some of their shortcomings. 

Yet they could not continue forever. Some of the most important ingredients could not substituted or left out. Already they had lost three soldiers to various diseases because they lacked a special root only grown in Pandaria that was necessary for a purifying potion. Countless others had died from simple pain. Their bodies having been incapable of processing it at such magnitudes. Yet without a constant supply of pain killers she had been forced to play god and decide who got them and who didn’t.

She could already feel the headache forming. 

With a sigh she put down her feather and simply stared at the door. 

She did not know for how long she stared. Her mind lost to the countless logistical problems that plagued their camp. 

That is until she felt a hand run down her arm. She turned her head to the right and stared at the offending appendage. It was small and pale. Delicate fingers slowly massaging her biceps; two rings sat on them, one on the middle finger and one on the ring finger. Slowly her eyes trailed from the hand up to the connecting arm were smooth skin gave way to light green armor, and finally to said persons face.

Vereesa Windrunner stared down at her in all her splendid glory. Tall ears pointed up from smooth silky blond hair that framed her gorgeous smiling face.

“Someone has been working hard I see.” Veressa said.

Alera blinked once then twice before smiling. As she attempted to stand however, Veressas’ other hand came to rest on Aleras’ other shoulder as she was forced back down into her seat. 

Before she could question why Vereesas’ fingers began to massage her shoulders. Those small soft digits revealing their strength from years of archery as they dig into Aleras’ sore muscles. 

“You've been hunching again.” Vereesa said accusingly. 

Alera could not defend herself as a small moan escaped her mouth as the elf relieved a particularly stubborn knot. 

Finally after what felt like an eternity of bliss Vereesa let go of her shoulders and swung her self into Aleras’ lap. She slowly ran her fingers up her lovers side before resting her head on her shoulder.

The two of them stayed like that for a while before Alera sighed and forced herself to interrupt the moment. 

“As wonderful a surprise as this is I must ask why your here.” Alera said.

Vereesa bit her lip for a moment as she straightened herself out on Aleras’ lap. “You wrote to me not to long ago that you were struggling with supplies, so, I talked to the council in Dalaran and they've agreed to supply you this one time while you wait for your own supply chains to catch up.”

Alera simply stared with her mouth open. Most of the ingredients were not cheap nor were the supplies. After a moment she pulled Vereesa tightly against her chest and kissed her. If the elf was surprised at all she didn’t show it. Rather she melted into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Aleras’ neck. 

After several minutes of passionate kissing they stopped. Their foreheads resting against each other as their breaths intermingled.

“What ever would I do without you?” Alera asked aloud.

Vereesa just smiled.

Inevitable her lover had to leave. The silver covenant was being honored as the official Dalaran guard. So with plenty of kisses and promises of visitation plus...extra, Vereesa returned to Dalaran.

* * *

For many months after that Aleras’ camp was the picture of efficiency. With the Dalaran supplies they were able to stretch their own limited stock until, finally, her request for supplies was approved. 

One day however as the camp was packing up to move further north a problem arose. A single forsaken soldier entered their camp. 

Immediately the soldiers were roused and the enemy put in chains. Quickly after that an emergency meeting was called between Alera and the other major commanders in the camp.

A large tent was hurriedly re-assembled.

“We should kill it.” Came the unsurprising opinion of Captain Daulten. The man was easily a full head taller than her. He was dressed in full battle regalia that only added to his intimidating form. Not to mention the large scar that ran down his face. He was also, unfortunately, very popular and influential.

Many were quick to agree as cheers roared over the meeting room. Alera however was having none of it.

“No we won’t.” She told him.

The tent was silent.

“What do you mean ‘no we won’t’?!” Captain Daulten questioned angrily. “It's an enemy. A servant of the Banshee Queen no less. The only solution is death.” He finished with a bang of his hand on the table.

Alera took a calming breath before looking him straight in the eye.

“I will say this once, and only once, so you'd better get it through your thick skull. We. Are. Not. Killing. _Her_.” She emphasized. The whole tent erupted into chaos. People yelling in disagreement and protest. 

Alera felt her temper flaring and before the situation could fall further out of control she flared her power of the light and her voice boomed in the tent. 

**_“That is enough”_ **

The whole tent fell silent once more at her burst of power. Reining it in she continued in her normal voice although allowing her eyes to continue to glow. 

“May I remind you all that I am in command here, by order of King Wrynn himself, if I say we aren’t going to hill her than we aren’t. Am I understood?” She said meeting everyone's eyes. Everyone nodded except Captain Daulten. She stared at him even harder as she repeated herself. “Am. I. Understood. Captain Daulten?” After a few more moments he nodded, albeit reluctantly. 

* * *

The next morning Captain Daulten would be rudely awoken to find out that their prisoner had ‘mysteriously’ escaped during the night.

Unfortunately her actions caught up with her. 

Less than a week later she was summoned to Stormwind to appear before the military tribunal. Conveniently the king was off somewhere else meaning they required no royal assent to deliver her punishment.

So their she was.

Alera had never thought she would be in this position. 

Kneeling before a military tribunal being tried for treason. She stared at each of the judges, committing their faces to memory should she find an escape, and took a deep breath.

“I plead Innocent of all charges.”

The council, her judges and executioners, erupted into cries of blasphemy and dissent. Their silver tongues lashing out with accusations of betrayal and falsehood. It was not until their leader stood, several minutes later, that the noise finally ceased. 

“We find you, Alera Vesque, guilty of treason against the Alliance, the light, and the free peoples of Azeroth. Your punishment is banishment…”

Alera did not hear anything after that. The cries of triumph and celebration among the gathered people not registering in her ears. The ground was cold and the air was thin. Her breath suddenly felt laboured and heavy. 

There was no chance of escape. Today was the day she would die.

They escorted her to the chapel after her sentence was delivered. As they walked through the streets. Various citizens stopped what they were doing to point and whisper. She recognized some of them. People, families, she had assisted during her priest training. 

A few moved to step towards her, their faces like stone as they approached the guards, but she shook her head to stop them. It would do no good for them to throw their lives away. They stepped back, but not fully. 

As the guards continued their escort some citizens began to spit on them, others threw fruit. The entire walk from the town square to the chapel the guards were pelted with rotten vegetation. Alera took some satisfaction when one guard opened his mouth and received a rotten tomato directly in his mouth.

Unfortunately to spite the assault from the civilians they did, inevitable, reach the chapel. White stone towers rising into the sky as blue highlights swirled up them like arcane. If it were not to be the place of her banishment she would have called it beautiful. The inside was no less impressive with its stained glass windows showing various achievements of the Alliance along with prophetic tales of caution for the void.

Alera was taken to the basement where she was surprised to find Captain Daulten along with a menagerie of power hungry nobles. 

They wasted no time. Alera was forced to her knees as Daulten warmed the brands. She raised her eyebrows when she spotted the second. The first was, unsurprisingly, a light blocker. Infused with the barest hint of void corruption in order to break her connection with the light. The other however was made to block arcane. 

When Daulten saw what she was looking at his smirk only grew. He pulled it from the fire and brought it right in front of her face. 

“This is to make sure you can’t get the brand removed. You see I came across an interesting bit of gossip a few weeks ago.” He started as he stared at the branding iron. “Word is apparently you have a horrible condition, worse than the Worgen they say, that causes your muscles to tighten so much they break _every_ bone in your body.” Her eyes widened and she began to struggle. Daulten just looked her in the eye and smirked before continuing. “Apparently you were brought here, to the chapel, and infused with the light of the Naru.” He stood and walked back to the fire. “So if I understand correctly you lose that light, you die, you die, and I get your position. And all these nobles can stop worrying about you using that elf lover of yours to start talking to the king about ridiculous things like peace.” He put the iron back into the flame and returned to Aleras’ side. “You see when were done branding you for your crimes against the Alliance, were going to send you to Dalaran so you can die in your lovers arms while she can’t do a thing to help you.” He slowly tilted her head up to meet his eyes and smiled with glee. “I’m just sorry I don’t get to see who it hurts more.” He moved his hand away and let her head drop.

“Please…” She murmured weakly. 

Daulten stopped halfway towards the irons.

“Please...don’t...don’t send me there…” She lifted her head to stare at him. “She never did anything to you.” 

Slowly Daulten turned to her his mirth no longer their. “You see that’s where you're wrong.” He said slowly as he continued turned back to the irons. “She, and every other piece of Horde scum, have tortured this world for years. Attacking innocents, slaughtering children, burning homes. What I'm doing to you is just the start.” 

Holding both Irons in his hand he slowly lifted her head and swiped her hair to the side to reveal her neck. Then he shoved the first against her skin. She held in her tears as the hot metal burned the sensitive skin of her neck. Then Daulten began to chant. 

She could feel the spell work taking effect. 

A growing coldness grew in her chest as the light fled from her body. Slowly spreading, like a virus, the coldness began to move first to the point where the brand met her neck then to the rest of her body. She tried to think of anything to numb the pain. Her unit, her friends, her family, Taren, Anduin, Alleria, Dalaran, Giramar and Galadin, Veressa…

Tears leaked from her eyes as the many faces of the people she loved appeared but she knew she would never see again.

Finally after what felt like an eternity the brand was lifted. Alera took the moment of respite to gather her wits and calm her mind. To try and prepare herself for the next brand. Once again Daulten line it up against her neck and pressed. 

If losing her connection to the light was colder than this felt like fire running through her veins. Every nerve in her body exploded in pain her very connection to the world was ripped away. The light around her became dim and the air turned to ice.

Then suddenly all of that pain focused into the middle finger of her right hand. She looked down and locked onto the ring sitting their. A protection ring. A gift from Vereesa to keep her safe from magical attacks. It had been a gift for their third anniversary.

_“I don’t need a protection charm Vereesa it's not like i'm going to be on the front line or anything.”_

_“I know that Dalah'surfal but it would make me feel better if you wear it. I worry for you. I have already lost one to the Horde. If I lost another…”_

_Alera quickly took the ring from her saddened lover before pulling her into a soft kiss,_

_“For you my love. The world.”_

The once beautiful golden band was molten red as it attempted to fight the brand. Her eyes widened as it continued to grow brighter and brighter as Daulten pressed the brand harder into her neck.

She watched with tears in her eyes as it suddenly dimmed. Daulten quickly pulled the brand off and then summoned the guards. 

Her eyes widened as, for the first time in nearly thirty years, she felt her muscles began to tighten. For now it was manageable but she knew she would quickly deteriorate. She was not given any more time to ponder as she was suddenly thrown through a portal and into the streets of Dalaran.

* * *

The sudden change in lighting completely disoriented Alera. The darkened cellar suddenly giving way to clear blinding white. It did not help that the city itself was made of white stone that reflected all the light it touched.

Once her eyes had adjusted she took surveillance of the area. Multiple other portals were open to both Horde and Alliance cities. She was in the portal center. She was less than five minutes from the city center, if she could just...she took a step and immediately fell on her face. The muscles in her left leg had seized up.

Suddenly she was on her back and...oh...oh no.

Vereesa was staring down at her in concern. Those lovely purple eyes scanning her form taking in every bruise and cut. 

“My love what is wrong.” Her voice so beautiful so light. A haunting reminder that soon Alera would never hear it again. 

In that moment she made a choice. Struggling to her feet Alera put on a smile and waved her hand in dismissal. 

“Nothing is wrong. I simply tripped on a flagstone while coming through the portal.” She said as she quickly moved her hand behind her back.

Vereesa seemed unconvinced. Quirking her eyebrow she reached out her hand to pull Aleras’ in front of her as she spoke. “Are you sure? My ring glowed so fiercely I feared for your life. It is why I am here, I was just about to portal to Stormwind when you arrived.” 

Quickly stepping back Alera put a fake smile on her face as she felt a bone in her hand snap. She watched closely as Vereesas’ right ear quirked slightly at the noise. The elf glancing over her shoulder looking for the cause. 

“I am quite fine my love. Return to your duties. I’m sure it was simply a reaction to the port-” Alera paused mid sentence as a very large crack could be heard followed by a series of smaller snaps. Her entire hand had just broken. 

A single tear shimmered in her eye and it took every last ounce of willpower to hold it in. 

When the pain had finally lessened enough to talk she went to dismiss herself when her leg gave out with a thunderous snap. She pitched forward into her lover who caught her before she could hit the ground. 

Vereesa looked entirely panicked now as Aleras’ limp hand and distorted leg were shown to the world. “What is wrong?!” Before Alera could form a response Vereesa spotted something. 

Pulling her lover closer, so as to stop her from attempting an escape, she pushed the hair at her lovers neck and gasped.

Their, just where Aleras’ shoulder met her neck sat two brands. She attempted to run her hand over them but pulled it back with a hiss. They were still hot.

Suddenly Alera found herself being lifted into Veressas’ arms, bridal style, and rushed towards the center of the city. 

The people split like water as Vereesa ran towards the hospital. She was like a woman possessed. A one woman army. 

Once they arrived she had Alera immediately put into the care of the best doctor they had. From then on it was one of the longest waits of Vereesas’ life. Countless thoughts ran through her head. How had Alera been branded? _Why_ was she branded? Why had she attempted to hide it? They drove her mad with the countless possibilities yet none held answers but Alera herself. 

* * *

Finally after what felt like eons the doctor approached her. He moved hesitantly which did not giver Vereesa confidence in what she was about to hear.

Alera stared at the doctor and the doctor stared at her. He broke eye contact first, heaving a sigh and sitting in the chair beside her bed. 

“I assume you know what is happening?” He asked her.

She nodded.

He gave another sigh as he bounced his foot against the floor.

“I hate to say it but their is nothing we can do.” He told her.

She nodded once more.

He hunched over in the chair as though in thought. Tapping his finger against his chin. Alera just stared out the window at the setting sun.

“I suppose their is one thing…” He began. She turned her head with great difficulty to face him. He was staring at her with pity. She hated it but she had no way of vocalizing that. “A mercy killing.”

It hung out their like a dead weight. 

“I could...administer anesthesia and then give you a fetal dose on an agent that would stop your heart.”

The words rang in her head. A way out. No pain.

She longed to take it.

But she couldn’t do that. 

Her sentence carried weight. She could not accept help. Technically speaking she wasn’t even allowed to be _in_ the hospital let alone having this conversation. Rather than shake her head she simply moved her head to the side enough to reveal her brands.

The doctors foot stopped.

There was a moment of silence...then.

“I’m sorry.”

So was she.

* * *

Vereesa stared at the doctor in confusion. Then in anger.

She quickly grabbed him by the throat and pushed him up against the wall. 

“What do you mean?”

The doctor didn’t seemed scared. Just sad.

“We can not treat her.” He said softly.

“And why is that?!” She demanded.

She refused to let it happen again. To lose another person she loved. For her children to lose another parent. It would be too much.

The doctor remained unfazed by her anger. In fact he seemed to just grow sadder at her outcry.

“I see. She did not get a chance to tell you then…”

“Tell me what?! Stop speaking in riddles! The woman I love is dying and you refuse to help her.” 

“Her brands.”

All at once Vereesa felt her anger switch back to confusion. Her hand pulled back from the doctor as she stared at him in confusion. 

“Her...brands?” She asked confusedly.

“I have seen them once before. When I worked with the army of the light. She has been charged with treason of the highest order. Her connection to the light has been severed and her connection with the world silenced. Usually it is just that, but, with her condition…she is as good as dead.”

Vereesa stumbled back at that as tears began to gather in her eyes. “For people in her situation we would usually administer a mercy killing. But the brands stop us. If we attempt to help her that would be deemed a breach of her sentence with serious repercussions for Dalaran as a whole.”

Vereesa found herself sitting in a chair. She didn’t remember sitting but their she found herself. The doctor was kneeling in front of her. He gave her a moment to process as much as possible before continuing. 

“I find the practice barbaric and cruel but their is nothing we can do medically.” He finished.

Vereesa just stared at him with tears in her eyes. Then softly. “Then what do I do?”

The doctor bit his lip before answering. “We...have an on site portal mage. While we can not assist her that does not extend to you. If their was, perhaps, somewhere you wished to take her for...for her final moments.”

* * *

They sat together overlooking Boralus.

Veressa held her lovers broken hands lightly in her own. 

The view was spectacular. 

The sun was setting just behind Boralus keep. Setting the sky a flame with oranges and pinks. The keep casting a shadow over the harbor as though sheltering it from the world. 

For hours they sat their. Occasionally interrupted by the sound of another bone breaking. 

“Can you see it my love?” She asked. She did not expect a response so she continued. “The world is so beautiful. I am honored to have been able to share it with you as much as I have.”

She heard a grunt from beside her and then a light pressure as he lover squeezed her hand.

Finally the sun began to set and the moon began to rise. 

**_SNAP_ **

Vereesa cried as she felt Aleras' head hit her shoulder.


	2. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain and anguish are familiar friends yet many seem to forget that they also lead the path to recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Jaina found her later that evening.

Holding the deformed and deceased body of her lover. 

She almost hurled at the sight of it. Broken bones protruded from the skin of her arms and legs. Her torso was a porcupine of snapped ribs a broken spinal fragments. She couldn’t even recognize her face as it had deformed from the breaking of the skull.

With many promises to her broken friend that no harm would come to the body. Jaina finally managed to pull Veressa away.

After that time seemed to hold no meaning to the elf. Days and weeks passed by.

The wake.

The funeral.

None of it seemed to pierce the shroud of her mourning. 

She hadn’t even told her kids. And how could she?

How could she explain that she had lost another lover?

That their new mother would never come home again?

That-that for the third time in her life she had failed her family?

It was torture every time she entered her own home. To be greeted by her sons who continued to ask where mom was. To be reminded of the happiness she could no longer have by the pictures of the wall. 

The second week after Alera’s death she sent her sons to Alleria.

Then it was just her. 

The pictures mocked her as she walked through the hallways. Her bed taunted her with memories of pleasure and warmth. Her kitchen haunted with memories of laughter and happiness. 

Three weeks after Alera’s death she found herself beside her sister in Quel’thalas.

She had expected hostility, threats, even taunting. 

None of it came.

Sylvanas greeted her with open arms and comforting words. She told her stories of her lover from the war. How she had gotten reports of an alliance healer who helped everyone and anyone who stumbled into her camp.

For three days she stayed with her undead sister.

Each day she contemplated asking her to raise her lover.

On the fourth day Sylvanas told her she would not do it. 

“I can’t little moon. Her curse is one that not even undeath could cure.” She had told her one morning. “She may come back to life but her affliction would remain. The only difference is that in undeath she could not die.”

That mental image had been enough to crush the idea. A mental image of her lover reborn in undeath. Writhing in pain as she was slowly twisted and broken with no hope of death. No hope of relief.

On the fourth week she bid Sylvanas farewell and returned to Dalaran.

In her home she found not Alleria sitting in her living room, but Alexstrasza.

She did not speak.

Rather she simply brought Veressa’s head to her shoulder.

That seemed to be enough. 

She broke into ugly sobs as her body melted into the older dragon.

On the fifth week her children returned home.

On the first day she held them close.

On the second she brought them to Alera’s grave.

On the third she faced the day once more. 

Again and Again, for everyday afterward, the memory would haunt her.

Yet again and again they hurt less each time.

Until finally, on the sixth week, it hurt no more.


End file.
